‘The Talk’ is the responsibility of parents, coaches

A good friend approached me recently with the question that every parent and every coach considers only with a certain amount of trepidation. Her son, “Adam,” is young, only 14. But he’s passionate about hockey, and goaltending in particular. He’s somewhat small of stature, but Adam has big dreams.

“He wants to play in the NHL,” his mom told me. “Do you think he has what it takes?”

Of course, it’s a completely loaded question. And a completely understandable question. Parents have to encourage their children’s dreams. But part of a parent’s job is also being a realist, and understanding whether dreams and reality have any chance of crossing paths.

I got lucky, because I was able to sidestep the question this particular time. I hadn’t seen Adam play in several years, so I couldn’t make any kind of legitimate assessment. I encouraged his mom to reach out to another coach who worked with her son more recently. It was tough, because I really like Adam and his family. They’re great people. But I also know that if Adam isn’t turning heads as a high school freshman, the “sweet spot” of a goalie’s developmental arch, then the numbers are probably stacked against him.

And the numbers are daunting.

According to a decade-old NCAA study, the number of high school senior players who go on to play NCAA men’s hockey at ANY level is less than 13 percent. Of those players who do make an NCAA team, fewer than 1 in 24, or 4.1 percent, are drafted by an NHL team. Translation? The odds of a high school senior being drafted by an NHL team are roughly one in 250, or 0.4 percent.

The NCAA concluded its study with a rather ominous warming: “Sadly though, it comes as a rude surprise to many athletes yearning for a professional sports career to learn that the odds against success are astronomically high.”

Those odds have only gotten worse since the NCAA study was released more than 10 years ago. The number of quality hockey players (including goalies) has increased, while the number of college hockey teams has remained relatively constant. Parents need to understand this. After all, you’re the adult, right?

Which brings me to my next point. “Can he make it?” and “Will he make it?” are two very different statements. The former is full of hope and optimism. It’s the stuff of dreams, and dreams are important. The latter is cold reality. And cold reality, frankly, typically trumps hopes and dreams.

I think of three pro goalies we often work with during the summer — Cory Schneider, Scott Darling and Mike Condon. Schneider is a gifted athlete who had the requisite work ethic and determined mindset to make the most of his natural talents to excel in prep school and at Boston College (coincidentally, he played against Jonathan Quick at UMass and Ben Bishop at Maine during the 2006-07 season, when a fourth goalie, BU’s John Curry, won Hockey East’s Player of the Year honors). Schneider has never taken anything for granted, and his commitment has paid off.

Darling, meanwhile, took a far more circuitous route. He had all the natural gifts a goalie could ask for, but social anxiety issues led him to self-destructive habits, and a one-way ticket out of Orono, Maine, before he landed in hockey’s deep minor leagues. His well-documented recovery from alcohol abuse and subsequent ascension as a legitimate NHL goaltender is nothing short of remarkable, and I have nothing but complete admiration for his success. But Darling’s story is a one-in-a-million tale. He’s earned every accolade, and contract, he’s gotten, but his road is truly exceptional. And it all started with a package of natural traits — skill and size — that most goalies simply don’t have.

Condon is my outlier. He is the example that, yes, a very solid goalie at Belmont Hill and Princeton can make it. Condon was barely on anyone’s radar until he caught the eye of a Montreal Canadiens scout. He made the most of that one opportunity, playing solidly for the Hamilton Bulldogs and earning a shot as Carey Price’s back-up (defeating the Boston Bruins in the 2016 Winter Classic in the process). Something clicked in Condon, and he’s worked his tail off to earn an NHL roster spot. But, again, it all started with that 1-in-10,000 chance that he was “discovered.” Those opportunities don’t happen often, and it’s even more rare when a goalie can take full advantage of the opportunity the way Condon did.

So, what’s a parent to make of all of this? The key is to find a balance that acknowledges both the dreams and the realities of the sport. Downplay the “end result,” like making a collegiate or professional team. Instead, focus on the “process.” In this instance, the “process” means “playing.”

For me, the goal should always be to simply nurture a child’s love of the game. Every time a youngster steps on the ice, they should be filled with the hopes and dreams of what’s going to happen in the next hour or so. Live in the moment, and make each moment count. That should be the only goal. Really, everything else is gravy.

POSTS & CROSSBARS

This month, I’m introducing a little “addendum” to highlight “random notes” that I feel are worth a mention but don’t quite merit an entire column. In short, near misses. Ergo the title, “Posts & Crossbars.” This month, I’d like to applaud the rule makers at USA Hockey for implementing a rule change that prohibits a shorthanded team from freely icing the puck at the Bantam level and below.

In short, if your team gets whistled for a penalty, and you’ve got a player in the box, you no longer have the luxury of just dumping the puck the length of the ice to kill time (and change players). Now, as a goalie, I admit this was a nice reprieve from the withering pressure of an opponent’s power play. But it was fraudulent, really. As a fan of the game, I never understood the rule. It’s an archaic rule that was implemented by the NHL in the 1930s to blunt the vaunted Montreal Canadiens’ power play. But it went against so much of what we teach, as coaches.

When we goalie coaches hear shooters complain about how good goalies are today, our standard reply is: “We got better. Now you’ve got to get better.” Don’t whine, and don’t take shortcuts by changing the rules (yes, like the NHL’s ridiculous “trapezoid” behind the goal line). Work on your game. Figure it out. Get better. If you ice the puck, accept that the face-off is coming back to your end.

I only wish this rule had been approved across the board, at every level of the game. But these days, no one wants to take the giant step, no matter how smart that step might be. So I’ll have to be happy with this baby step, and hope that hockey’s power brokers come to their senses, and adopt the rule from Mites to the professional ranks.